And The Places and Spaces In Between
by Lcsaf
Summary: AU. A grieving widower, a restless farmgirl and the open Kansas prairie. Can two souls find the balance in themselves and each other in the spaces in between? A story told in bits and pieces.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any recognizable characters.

**A/N: **Hoo-boy! What started as a short little DG/Jeb friendship giftfic scene for _**animegus farmus**_ back in September '12 somehow morphed to this monster, due to af's loving, constant demands of **_more_**. Through countless hours and late nights and silly conversations of sparking ideas and devouring all the lovely Tinfic there is literally on the Interwebs (and yes, trust me, **_I've checked_**), I found a story for DG and Cain, in a wonderful little 'What If' sort of world. And animegus farmus has been there 100% of the time, pushing me the entire way. So, you and I have her to thank for this thing.

A note on the styling: As this is a story told in bits and pieces, the tenses may seem to skip a little (though I try to stick to a certain one in a paragraph) and the though I've managed to arrange this in the best order I can, I did originally write several bits in the way that The Doctor travels (wibbly wobbly timey whimey). As such, this may not read quite like a linear story, please be aware.

* * *

The land was flat and the road was long and Wyatt could've sworn he'd just been driving the same twenty-mile stretch of freeway over and over if he hadn't been keeping an eye on the mile markers of the interstate. It was a better day for napping than travelling with the steady rain coming down and providing an almost lulling sound in the otherwise too quiet cab of the truck. This was a day one could easily get lost in their thoughts.

Wyatt glanced to his right, where Jeb sat in the passenger seat; leaning against the window, half-alert but clearly bored as he listened to whatever music was pouring out of his iPod.

There'd hardly been a word said between the two males since they stopped for lunch nearly three hours ago, and Wyatt estimated they still had about four more hours on the road. Previous experience told him that his son's mp3 player would eventually lose power, but he wasn't banking on too much coming from the boy anyways. Things had been strained since Adora's disappearance, and after a year and a half of hoping and searching and praying and eventually grieving over their loss when her body was finally found, Wyatt knew there wasn't anything left for the tattered remains of the Cain family in their old town. Jeb had been lashing out and acting up enough to get himself suspended from school for the first time ever, and when an offer came to fill a position of a soon-to-be-retiree, at the Sherriff's office in a small town in Kansas, Wyatt accepted the transfer and decided to use the opportunity to pull up roots and get himself and his boy outta Dodge and someplace new. Someplace where they could hopefully start to heal.

* * *

The Township of Hilltop must've been named as someone's idea of a joke since there was no marked elevation of any kind for nearly fifty miles around. The journey there had indeed been vastly silent, but fifteen minutes ago Wyatt had roused his son from his unintentional nap to help him navigate by reading the directions printed off and consulting the large fold out map of the area.

They'd passed their new home twice, largely due to the lack of street signs, street lights or any indication of where they were besides a little diner across the street. The rain had thankfully stopped by the time they actually pulled into the parking lot of Hilltop Manor Apartments, which allowed Wyatt and Jeb to at least unload sleeping bags, pillows, flashlights and a few other necessities unaccosted. The place wasn't much—a living room, two bedrooms (a master and a spare), half a kitchen and an even smaller bathroom—but it would suffice. While the utilities were in working order, they'd brought no food with them beyond a bag of jerky, bottled water, trail mix and a can of Pringles that Jeb guarded jealously. The diner across the street had been a no-brainer.

The bell jingled as they stepped in the restaurant and smell of grease and grill smoke greeted them to the point where one could nearly taste the food being cooked. While the place wasn't packed, it was certainly busy and several patrons' conversations filled the air. An older woman with graying hair and a sweater over her gingham uniform welcomed them and directed them to have a seat where ever they could find one. It was a younger waitress who served them, however. With dark hair in a high ponytail and fluffy bangs over cornflower blue eyes and a warm smile, she introduced herself as DG, and Wyatt pegged her as one of the local high school's cheerleaders. She'd certainly caught his son's notice as he sat up straighter when she approached their booth. DG took their drink orders and pointed out the menu tacked on the wall behind her before rushing off to fulfill her duties.

DG was friendly and chatty as she guessed correctly that they weren't from around the area and stopped by their table more than strictly necessary in between serving her other customers. It made up for the slightly slow service, due to the volume of people waiting on their food and Wyatt appreciated the way she seemed to set his son at ease. It made him feel slightly better at transplanting his boy and ended the long day on a slightly better note by the time they finished their dinner and turned in for the night in their new home.

* * *

The good feeling hadn't last long, though. Jeb enrolled in school that next week and Wyatt kept a worried eye on him. Back home, Jeb had been an outgoing boy, with several friends. And never one for sweets. These days he was quiet, saying little on school or how he's fitting in. He spent most of his free time in his room if he was at home or at the diner, when he had pocket money to spend. He came home with strawberry malts and french fries on his breath. Wyatt wasn't sure if it was the girl, the food or both, but he reluctantly let his son continue this cycle for nearly a month, knowing that they were still both grieving and dealing in their own ways.

He'd tried talking to Jeb after that, (prying, Adora would call it), wanting to seriously know how his son was feeling about their new life in the quiet town. In the manner of all teenage boys, Jeb had predictably been tight lipped and defensive when Wyatt pressed for more than vague answers and it had predictably turned into an argument that had both males raising their voices and ended with Jeb leaving the apartment with a huff and a slammed door. Wyatt only felt marginally less worse when he spied his son stalking across the street to the diner.

Two days later Wyatt returned from his afternoon grocery run with a bag balanced on his hip as he juggled his keys to the appropriate one to the apartment, noticing an unfamiliar motorcycle parked in the spot next to him. He could hear the sound of one of Jeb's shooting games before he even opened the door, and let out a sigh. It was a good thing their only neighbour was still at work.

"You wanna turn that down, Jeb...?" he trailed off, noticing his son wasn't the only one home. Jeb and the waitress from the diner were both looking at Wyatt with a slightly sheepish expression.

Jeb paused the game. "Hey, Dad." He gestured to his guest. "This is DG-from the diner."

DG gave him a tremulous smile. "Hi, Mister Cain."

Wyatt nodded and went to the kitchen to unload the bag. Jeb hadn't really said anything about having guests over, but considering Wyatt's worry over his son's lack of friends, Wyatt was just relieved that his boy wasn't completely on his lonesome in this community. Hilltop wasn't by any means large, but it was close and he didn't want his son being saddled with being the outsider. "Hi, DG. That your bike parked out front?"

"Yeah," she answered warily. Glancing at Jeb as she did so.

"You being safe on it?" he continued, unable to deny his law nature.

"I wear a helmet, if that's what you mean," she responded.

"You done interrogating, yet, Dad?" Jeb asked him, annoyance lacing his tone. He turned appologetically to the girl sitting next to him. "Sorry. Dad was a cop back at home," he whispered.

Wyatt pinned the younger Cain with a look, then directed his attention to their guest. "You staying for dinner, DG?"

* * *

**A/N:** On a curious note, I know the Tin Man fandom is 6 years old, but it's a little dying fandom. Is there anyone out there still reading this? Let me know. Also, please don't forget to review. Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** I definitely do not own Tin Man.

**A/N:** Bobby Gibbons is _**animegus farmus'**_ creation, and has graciously allowed me to reference him.

* * *

**DG**

Is Home supposed to feel like a prison? That's rhetorical. DG knows the answer is no, but she seems to be the only who feels trapped in Hilltop. Everyone else is apparently fine with living in the same small town working the same jobs and seeing the same people day in and and day out. To her it's like she's holding her breath, waiting, _knowing_ there's something more to life than _this_. It feels like she's been holding her breath forever. She wants to get out of this town, this boring existence and see the world: visit Paris and spend the entire day touring the Louvre, travel to Australia and explore the Land Down Under. Heck, at this point she'd be happy just to get out of the damn state of Kansas where the most exciting thing to happen was the weather during Tornado Season-anything to escape this banal existence.

It's not like she's got much of a reason to stay, beyond her parents. She's friendly with the other waitresses, but she doesn't really consider any of them friends and Carter is pretty ambivalent about her, unless he's getting on her case about something. She's pretty sure Gulch would be pleased to see the back of her. She knows he considers her to be a pest, but the feel's mutual. And most of her classmates are away at actual Universities and Colleges while DG takes one class at a time at the local community college, because that's all that she can really afford. She's pretty much a loner and a dreamer, as Momster says, with her art and her motorcycle to keep her entertained. That's why she's saving her pennies for a ticket. She's not sure where to, yet, but it doesn't matter, because she's barely got more than forty bucks set away (between tuition, gas and maintenance on the bike, the tickets she racks up from Gulch, and the art supplies, she doesn't have much left). She's gonna get out of here one day.

The one thing working at the only diner in town has going for it, is that Hilltop is common stop for refueling both vehicles and their travelers, so DG's got one of the best opportunities to meet new people and charm them long enough that they leave a better than average tip. She likes their stories and their accents and pretends sometimes that she could just hop aboard with them when they leave. She'd even send postcards from where ever she ended up back to her parents, instead of sitting at her desk at home, drawing up fake ones of far away. In the reality, though, she settles for the change left on her tables after the diners leave.

She takes turns with the other women waiting on new parties, because DG apparently isn't the only one hoping to see a fresh face from time to time and a chance to make a bigger buck from a stranger. She just happens to luck out on the rotation when new pair trudge in one rainy night. An extremely handsome blond man and his good looking son grab a booth, looking tired...well, the man looks plain worn out and the teenager's just grumpy-travel weary, probably. She can't actually empathize with them, but she understands the tediousness that seems to radiate around them and tries to be a little more upbeat than normal for their sake.

She visits their table more than strictly necessary, because the diner's full and it's only her and Phoebe and she wants them to have a good impression, despite the wait time. Turns out it's a good thing she manages to tease a smile out of the kid, because Jeb (the teenager) and Wyatt (the dad) Cain are the newest additions to their community. (That's probably the most exciting thing that's happened around here since Bobby Gibbons nearly got arrested during their Senior year.) She'll be seeing a lot more of them. She almost feels bad for the kid, but she really likes the generous tip Mr. Cain left, and hopes at least that keeps up.

* * *

Jeb comes into the diner alone a week later, practically dragging himself to a stool at the counter with a large frown on his face. New kid blues, probably. The Cains have been the talk of the town since they've moved in and DG can only imagine how weird it must be for Jeb to try to fit in somewhere new in the middle of the semester.

Evie's busy, so DG gets him, again. "Hi! What can I get you? Malt? Soda?"

He looks up at her suggestions and cocks his head flicking his eyes from the menu board behind her to her face. "What's a malt?" he asks in his Southwestern drawl.

She shrugs loosely. "'s like a milkshake made with malted powder. Good for dipping your fries in."

His brows furrow together in confusion. "Dipping your fries in?" he repeats, leaning back in disgust.

"Sure!" DG laughs at his expression. At least he's not completely frowning anymore. She's gotten him to smile once, she'll do it again. She shifts her weight to lean one hand on the counter, like she's gonna tell him a secret. "Everyone here does." She pauses to let that sink in before her lips twist into a smirk. "Wanna try it?" she dares.

Jeb looks at her for a minute like he thinks she's pulling his leg, then lifts his chin up in challenge. "Sure," he agrees with his own smirk.

She's glad she's managed to goad him out of his funk and lets her expression settle into a more natural smile. If there's anything she's learned about teenage boys is that they hardly ever give up a dare, no matter how small or dumb or innocent. "What flavor?"

Hazel eyes go back to the board for a moment. "What's your favorite?" he asks.

DG doesn't even have to think about it. "Strawberry malt with fresh dropped fries." Still shiny from the grease and nearly piping hot. When she's feeling bold, she'll sprinkle Cajun seasoned salt on them, too. But one step at a time for the new kid.

He lifts his chin with the tiniest little half smirk still lingering. "Bring it," he challenges.

She put in his order and checks on her other tables. Mrs. Kitnul's in the corner with her soup and tea and a million crackers and Officer Wainwright's lemonade needs refreshing, but other than that, it's pretty quiet for her. After she brings the old cop another full glass she returns back to Jeb who has managed to look frowny again.

"So what's with the long face?" she asks casually.

His shoulders lift and then drop. "Nothin'."

"Being the new kid?" she guesses.

Jeb tugs on his left ear. "I guess," he agrees quietly, looking a little embarrassed.

She leans her forearms on the counter, a little kitty-corner from him. "Feel like an outsider, huh? Like you don't belong?" Like recognizes like, after all. Just like Momster says. The blond boy doesn't say anything, but she catches him peeking at her. She offers a consolatory smile, but doesn't give him meaningless platitudes and empty promises. Instead she tells him, "I'm here if you ever wanna talk."

They don't actually end up talking about that, but he likes the fries and malt.

(It feels good to kinda connect with someone.)

* * *

He comes back days later to try the chocolate malt and fries and after that, the vanilla. DG's pretty sure she's gonna get him hooked. She likes Jeb, despite the fact they don't know each other too well. They're friendly enough with each other when he comes by the diner-he's starting to become a regular-but they don't have a lot of time for deep and meaningfuls between Carter's eye on her back all the time and Jeb's lack of sharing unless directly asked. He mostly keeps her company in the dead hours of the middle of the afternoon while he has a snack and works on his homework. Still, they find a few things in common. His sarcasm is a good match for hers and he's got good enough taste to drool after her bike when he finally sees it, and he doesn't treat her like a piece of meat just because she's female. He's a good guy. So it completely baffles her why he doesn't seem to make any friends at school. Maybe he's just a loner, like her. Kindred spirits and all that hooey.

* * *

A month goes by when Jeb runs out of paper for his homework and an offer from DG to get him more paper from her personal stash turns into an invitation from Jeb to hang out at the Cains' and play Xbox, which extends to dinner when Mr. Cain comes home. For the first time in a long time, DG has a friend.

* * *

**Wyatt. _Two Weeks Later_**

He was glad his boy was starting to build a social life in their new home, but Wyatt almost forgot how much trouble his boy could actually get up to, given the opportunity. Jeb had always been better at getting away with something far more than any child had a right to be, let alone one of a cop, which was probably why Wyatt hadn't actually caught him as much as he suspected his offspring to be up to something. Still, it was nice to know he hadn't lost his edge as he waited for his missing son, at home in the dark.

The latch snicked open. Wyatt looked at his watch. 1:36**am**.

"Hello, son." He turned on the end table lamp to reveal Jeb frozen in the open doorway, caught in the act of sneaking in. "I hope whatever made you late for curfew by three and a half hours was worth it."

Jeb slumped. He knew he was majorly grounded. "How long?"

"Three and a half weeks," Wyatt answered. "No cell, no games, no computer."

Shock flew over his son's face. "Dad, my homework!" he protested.

Wyatt shook his head and crossed his arms. "You got computers in the library at school," he reminded his boy. "And speaking of: you're only driving there and back. Nowhere else."

Unconsciously, Jeb's gaze cut quick in the direction across the street. "The diner?" he ventured cautiously.

Wyatt took a quiet moment to consider the request (it might be petty, but he wasn't above watching his son squirm when he was obviously in trouble). Jeb deserved his punishment, but Wyatt was well aware that his boy hadn't had the best or easiest of times making friends since they'd moved here. The younger man had mentioned one pickup basketball game after school, but so far that'd been it. And for Jeb, who had been pretty popular at his old school, Wyatt knew that it was hard on him. The diner and DG had basically been his refuge in Hilltop.

"Assumin' you got your own money...you can walk," the elder Cain conceded. After all, the diner was only across the street. He held out his hand and didn't miss the odd mixture of sullenness and relief as Jeb slapped his cell into his father's palm before going to his room and after a moment of rustling, returned to the living room to drop off his keyboard and mouse in a tangle of wires on the couch. Wyatt gazed down at it for a moment before tilting his face up to look back to the young man. "And the wireless set," he prompted, smirking at Jeb's scowl. If Jeb thought he had forgotten the other set, he was sorely mistaken.

Jeb stalked back to his room and reappeared again, dumping the wireless keyboard and mouse with the first set, before shutting himself into the room for the night.

"Don't be late getting up in the morning!" Wyatt warned through the door, before locking up for the night.

* * *

**DG.** **_The Next Day_**

Jeb was reticent at the counter of the diner as he listlessly ran his fries through what was ostensibly the chocolate malt that DG had set before him earlier, but in reality was a goopey, syrupy brown mess on his plate.

She watched him with barely disguised worry. While he wasn't the reserved teen he'd been when he'd first arrived to Hilltop with his father, he was almost...mopey (at least for a Cain). He'd been a bit more fidgety as well, as if he was physically restraining himself for reach for the pocket where his wallet was stashed.

"Hooookay," DG sighed as she plopped down on the stool next to him once the place has quieted down enough to have a private conversation. "What's wrong?"

The blond visibly stilled at her question, but stayed silent, merely dragging his fries through the puddle on his plate. DG out-waited him easily, however, and in a few moments' time he huffed out a sigh. "I got caught comin' in after curfew, last night, so now I'm basically grounded for three and a half weeks."

She wrinkled her nose in sympathy. "Yeouch. How late were you?"

"Three and a half hours," he admitted.

"Geeze! What were you doing out so late?"

"Nothing!" he insisted a little forcefully, tossing down his fry. "I was literally out doing nothing!" He let out a breath, before picking up another fry and stirring it in the mess again. "In a few week's the anniversary they found my mom," he reluctantly mumbled.

DG sat back a little stunned. She and Jeb had become much closer over the time he'd been there, but so far, all she'd heard of Mrs. Cain was that she'd been the fatal victim of a car accident-a hit and run-before the Cains had moved to town. Neither Jeb nor his father talked about her much.

"Oh..."

He hadn't even been looking at her then, except what DG suspected was only from his peripheral vision, but turned away at her soft response, shoulders slightly hunching in.

She struggled with the approach to take. While they'd undoubtedly had grown closer, Jeb was still a bit aloof at times, on certain subjects and didn't really seem to deal with casual touches like most people did. And yet his entire countenance basically screamed for a hug, or a least an arm slung around the shoulders. Hesitantly she placed a hand on his forearm. "If you ever need to talk..." she offered again.

She was no psychology major, but she'd been told more than once she was a good listener.

Jeb shrugged, but it wasn't a move to dislodge her. "Thanks," he muttered half-heartedly.

* * *

The wind was whipping through the hair not under her helmet as DG sped down the familiar stretch of Kansas highway. Behind her, but catching up was the equally familiar sound of police sirens as Officer Gulch was once again pushing pedal to the metal to catch up to the local speed demon.

Static crackled in her ear as the walkie talkie headset came into range. "Deege...Deege, can...hear me?" Jeb's voice nearly shouted.

She pressed the response button on the motorcycle's handle and replied. "I hear you."

"You wanna hurry it up then?" Jeb laughed over the line. "He's catchin' up."

"Not for long," DG promised. "You ready?"

Jeb's smirk was audible. "Let's see whatcha got!"

DG grinned behind her helmet and flipped the switch to the throttle, gunning the engine and taking off at a higher rate of speed than the KDOT intended for vehicles to ever go. Not for the first time was she thrilled that she'd made friends with the young man who became the newest addition to their little town since he and his retired sheriff father had moved here. Jeb might've been a few years younger than her, but DG had never let that bother her when she served him in her section one day at the cafe. Finding out that he had an interest in engines had been like discovering a hidden treasure as he basically drooled over her bike parked in front of his seat at the window and they'd spent the majority of their acquaintance and then friendship upgrading the bike and Jeb's truck.

And as always, they just *HAD* to test the new modifications. What was the point otherwise? Gulch was just too much of a stick in the mud and a little too serious about his job to see that. But half the fun recently was to see how much faster they could beat the local cop and to catch up with each other.

Jeb's rusty red Toyota with the tailgate down came in to view and DG took a deep breath before giving the warning. "Incoming."

"Bring it."

"Keep going." DG let the motorcycle gain a little more speed before saying a quick prayer and popping the front wheel hard enough to catch on the low gate and pull the bike up. She nearly ran into the cab and in all honesty, probably put a tiny dent in it before cutting the gas and kicking the stand down. She was off the cycle in the next moment to pull up the tailgate and then bang on the roof of the truck. "Go!" she shouted as Jeb sped forward.

The raven haired girl held on until she got her equilibrium and then reached for the preplaced clamps and locked her bike into the bed.

The low local billboard was on their right and Jeb swung sharply behind it, nearly knocking DG off her feet and killing the engine. She knew the drill though and hopped out the back as the passenger door was opened and slid in.

They both held their breath as the sirens grew closer and then upon them...and then past them.

"Awesome!" DG cried as she raised her hand for a high five. Jeb returned it with a grin.

"You know it's gonna take him less than thirty seconds to figure it out," the blond young man said, as he turned the truck back on and pulled around closely to the other side of the billboard to face the road before putting the car in reverse and keeping his foot on the brake.

"Even less," DG insisted, having a better handle on Gulch. The squeal of tires could be heard as the word had barely left her mouth, and she smiled at her friend as he shook his head.

The squad car's warning again drew close and as soon as Gulch had passed the sign, Jeb took his foot off the brake and reversed around the billboard before throwing the truck into drive and heading back onto the road and towards Hilltop Cafe, DG's work.

They made it far earlier than the officer and parked around the back of the row of apartments across the street where the Cains resided and walked to the restaurant.

"DG," Carter greeted from the kitchen window as they walked in. "How come you're always on time when you don't have ta work?"

DG rolled her eyes but basically ignored him as the pair made their way to the counter. Apple pie with a big slice of cheddar was on her mind right now and not much else.

Just as she was ordering (and Jeb was currently having a debate on her left, between the BLT or chicken soup-not having eaten his entire way down the menu yet), the bell over the front door rang and a second later the empty spot on her right was filled with a cup of coffee, followed by a familiar yellow slip.

"Cute, DG," Gulch said, clearly not impressed with her antics.

Jeb snickered until the officer caught sight of him too.

"Wonder what your dad'd say to seein' you have one of these," the older man said, as he handed the blond a ticket as well.

So far, Jeb hadn't been in any official trouble because of her and DG had kept it that way for a reason. Jeb's dad being a former law enforcer and currently poised to take on an empty slot at the Sherriff's office was something that had held a bit of tension in the household whenever DG came over to visit Jeb because the gossip in a small town was quick to go around and while DG wasn't actually a wild child, she'd been on the more annoying side of the department than not.

She sighed and was in the middle of her famous "Guuuuuuulch"es when Wyatt Cain's voice broke over the sound.

"Wouldn't be very impressed."

DG whirled around to see her friend's father hand on said friend's shoulder, with said father looking distinctly disappointed in his son.

Jeb's shoulders automatically hunched. And DG could see all of a sudden why Wyatt Cain had been as good at his job as his son described. "Come on, Jeb. We're going home." The older Cain nodded to Gulch. "He'll be paying his ticket."

Gulch nodded back.

DG winced and mouthed 'sorry' to Jeb, who took it in stride as he stood to leave with his father.

Mr. Cain's warning of "aiding and abetting a criminal" could be heard as DG whirled around to glare at her old nemesis. "Why do you have to ruin everything?" she hissed.

"Why can't you follow the law?" Gulch replied, serenely sipping his coffee.

"I'll take that pie to go, Phoebe," DG told the woman behind the counter. "I've suddenly lost my appetite." She slapped a five on the counter and crumpled up the ticket before jamming it in her pocket and accepting the styrofoam container. "Keep the change." She marched out the door and across the street.

Her bike was still in the back of Jeb's truck and she needed to get it if she didn't want to walk home. She risked a glance at their apartment before heading for the truck and mentally weighed her options. She was going to need a hand or a plane to get the bike out of the truck. The usual plan of the three of them getting the bike out didn't seem to be an option right now as Gulch had just turned her into _persona non grata_ at the Cain household. Sighing, she opened the bed to hop up and start unstrapping the bike.

The apartment door opened and Mr. Cain stepped out. DG felt her stomach drop. She swallowed.

He walked slowly to the truck and leaned his arms on the bed rails before he spoke. "My son's old enough to be pickin' his own friends. And I trust his judgment, he's a smart boy. But I'm worried if he's making friends that are gonna end up in jail."

"Mister Cain, I wasn't trying to get Jeb in trouble, honest. It's just…"

"It's just he's a teenager DG," he cut in. "He's seventeen and he's friends with a daredevil, who happens to be a girl. An _older_ girl. He's gonna do anything to keep up and impress you. And Jeb's competitive: if he seems you pullin' a stunt, he's gonna try ta top it," Cain said as he casually undid the buckle to the strap nearest him. "I just don't want him taking it too far someday and head into something he can't come back from. He's all I got left." He looked directly at her with those ice blue eyes. "I'm sure your folks got the same worries."

"'m sorry," DG muttered, feeling uncharacteristically cowed.

Cain came around pulled himself into the bed. "Let's get this thing outta here."

It took the two of them longer than usual, but DG didn't say a word and Jeb's father seemed to have things well in hand. The bike was little heavy, but Cain Sr. had a good grip and arms and shoulders made for lifting.

Once they got it down she turned to him. "I _am_ sorry Mister Cain," she repeated sincerely. She certainly hadn't meant to get her friend in trouble and hadn't even thought about Jeb being the only thing left for dad. The older man seemed so quiet and reserved, but she'd mainly chalked it up to his stoic personality. He had to be lonely, losing his wife. She promised in the future to be more careful.

Cain nodded and watched as she put on her helmet and took off.

* * *

It was nearly a week before DG saw her friend again. Jeb had been sitting on the terrazzo in front of the Cains' door, reading the paper as she rode in for work. She was over half an hour early and had been meaning to see if she could sneak in some extra time, but decided to catch up with the teen instead upon noting the lack of Mr. Cain's truck. "Hey," she greeted carefully after shutting off the bike.

Jeb lifted his chin and darted a glance to her before returning to the newspaper's classifieds section. "Hey."

"Your dad mad?"

"Yeah," Jeb sighed as she sat to join him. "I'm grounded until I can get a job to pay that stupid ticket."

Now she really felt bad. Hiring wasn't a specialty of Hilltop until harvest time or someone died.

This was all Gulch's fault.

"That sucks," she offered. "You could try seeing if anything in Hardy is hiring."

"It'd be easier if this damn place actually had an e-version of the paper or anyone here posted to Craigslist," he grumbled.

She had nothing to add to that but an apology. "Sorry I got you in trouble. And that Gulch had to be such a jerk about it."

Jeb grunted in agreement and DG suspected he wasn't really in the mood for company.

"I'll see if anyone at the diner is hiring," she told him as she rose, returning to her bike.

"Yeah," he replied. "See ya."

"Bye."

* * *

**Wyatt. _One Month Later_**

Elmer Gulch pointed out the men in the station as he named them. "David Kreeson, Ryan Watts, Noah Wainsworth."

Wyatt nodded to each man in turned as they waved. Elmer chuckled and pitched his voice to carry. "You've already met feisty Mrs. Cooper."

"I heard that, Elmer Gulch!" Gloria yelled back from her secretary desk in the front, making the men smile.

Gulch continued. "Clint used the desk facing mine, so I guess that's yours now."

Wyatt lowered himself to his chair, glad to finally be back at work. The Sherriff's satellite office might not be as busy or as big as the precincts he'd grown used to in the South, but it was much better than slowly losing his mind for lack of work.

The majority of the shift passed quietly in the office, giving Wyatt time to aquaint himself with the way things were done. In the afternoon he partnered with Gulch to patrol. They barely started the car when the CB crackled. "Nine-Oh-Three-Delta-Gamma," the dispatcher said.

With a lusty sigh, Elmer put the car in gear as Wyatt raised a brow as he heard his partner mutter under his breath, a familiar name catching his ear.

"DG?" he queried, unsure he'd heard correctly. At Elmer's nod, Wyatt frowned. "She's got her own code?"

"Yep," Gluch breathed out, sounding resigned but not surprised. "Used to be a little more of a hell raiser in her teens, trying to out-do and one up one of the other kids around here. Ended up setting up the code sometime when she was eighteen or so-ish, kinda as a joke, but it stuck because we ended up using it more often."

They reached the call point, a rundown looking barn that that stood by itself among fields of corn.

"This isn't DG's work," Gulch stated after several minutes of investigating the scene.

"You mean the 'DG wuz here' doesn't tell you that?" Wyatt joked, referring to the blue spray painted letters on the inside of the barn.

The other man snorted. "Or the fact that the lock's busted by an amateur and there's two trails leading in, and none of 'em are DG's Triumph?" he chuckled, playing along. The younger man shook his head. "Nah, girl's done a lot of dumb stuff-no doubt-but she's not this sloppy, and she's not ever this destructive." He shrugged. "I'd say it'd more likely be the Gibbons boy, if Bobby weren't already off to college. Probably one of the highschoolers trying to relive glory tales. We'll see if Kreeson and Watts can get a shake down, they both have connections to some of the kids."

"What kind of glory tales are we talkin' here?" Wyatt asked once they were back in the squad car headed to the office.

He had the disadvantage of not knowing all the small town stories that colored and flavored the next stupid stunt a younger generation would try, and he was determined to catch up to keep a better look out for teenage trouble.

Elmer Gulch lifted one shoulder easily. "DG and Bobby Gibbons had kind of a casual rivalry when they were younger, goin' after one another. Used to be a pain in my neck when I came on."

The rest of the shift was spent discussing DG's long history with Elmer Gulch and giving Wyatt valuable insight one just what kind of girl his son was hanging out with. She apparently wasn't just another pretty face.

The apartment was empty when he got in from. Signs of his son having been home earlier were evidenced by what was missing-namely last night's leftovers and Jeb's game station-more than what he had left there: a note on the kitchen table.

_At DG's_

Satisfied with that, Wyatt continued with his own routine. He didn't start worrying until 10**pm**. Jeb was a big boy but it was a school night. Around the time he decided to call the Geares', the phone rang.

_"Hey dad,"_ Jeb greeted. _"I'm gonna chill over here tonight."_

"Her folks okay with that?" He'd been sure the first time his son had spent the night with DG, those two had been up to something, but the kids' friendship had never turned into anything more and neither one had any interest in that route, apparently. He had no problem with his son spending the night away from home as long as it wasn't a burden to his host.

_"Yeah,"_ Jeb agreed. _"DG's mom already made supper and her dad asked if I wanted to catch a tv marathon with them."_

"You got school in the morning," Wyatt pointed out.

_"I know. I've got my bag with me."_

"What about clothes?"

_"I'll come home to change before class,"_ his son assured.

"Homework?"

_"I'll get it done, Dad,"_ came the exasperated reply. Wyatt just see the slouch in his boy that usually accompanied that tone.

"See that you do. I'll curb extra-curriculars if grades are dropping."

_"__**Dad**__..."_

He hadn't that particular whine in a while, but was firm. "I mean it, Jeb. Homework, or there won't be any more hanging out or video games."

_"Fine,"_ his son sighed while still sounding curt. He'd gotten that from Adora. _"I'll see you in the morning."_

"Good night, Jeb. I better not hear of you sleeping in class tomorrow," Wyatt warned.

_"__**Bye**_, _Dad,"_ Jeb growled before hanging up.

Wyatt replaced the phone and made a mental note to have talk with his boy about respect when he saw him again.

* * *

Jeb is in for a treat. Hank has convinced him to watch a Firefly marathon.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own TINMAN.

**A/N: **Apologies for the long wait. Life is my only excuse. Remember, the scenes were not written linearly. Please forgive any mistakes.

* * *

**_Wyatt_**

Life continues in the small town of Hilltop. Wyatt has settled into his new position with ease and into his admittedly quieter life in their new home, if not quite as smoothly. Houses and apartments are just places to live, it's the people that you live with and around that make them a home.

Jeb is still a reserved boy when it's just the two of them. He spends most of his time in his room with the door closed, if he isn't glued to the tv, persuing some form of entertainment or another. Wyatt's not sure how much of that is lingering feelings from Adora's death, and how much is just teenage angst in general, but the apartment is no longer filled with shouting or sullen silence (unless Jeb is grounded). It is a slightly more muted, however, as slowly Wyatt's son begins to return to the happier self-assured teen he'd been back in Texas, before Adora disappeared. He speaks more often of others in his classes at school and smiles more, though Wyatt attributes most of this reemergence to DG.

Wyatt isn't quite sure how to take the friendly waitress who'd become fast friends with his boy. On the one hand, he's pleased that she's been able to reach Jeb and get him to open up when no one else had previously succeeded. On the other hand, well...DG had a lot of sides to her that he didn't like.

She was a dreamer to the point of distraction, even at work sometimes. She engaged in a lot of risky behaviour for the sake of fun and while she was a nice enough girl she wasn't exactly what he would call 'sweet'. In fact, DG had a sense of sass that frequently got to him for no reason that Wyatt could discern, along with a lack of proper amount of respect he felt she could afford to others. She treated her boss like an annoyance, the Sherrif's Office (especially Gulch) as a thing to be endured and tended to ignore anyone attempting to give her advice. She was also a little too nosey for his liking...

_Like the beginning of most of their hear-to-hearts, Wyatt takes his son out for food first._

_When Jeb was little, ice-cream was the preferred treat of choice, which turned into food truck tacos by the time he was ten, and then pizza just as he entered high school. Now though, his pick is burgers-the thicker and greasier the better. Hilltop Cafe was not actually the only place in the area that sold burgers, but DG usually made her magic happen for Jeb Cain's orders and so the diner was obviously the best spot to eat, according to the blond teen. Personally, Wyatt liked eating there, too, if not for the same reasons..._

_Brow lifted, Wyatt watches as his boy absently dips his order of extra crispy steak fries in his malt before popping them in his mouth, licking the remaining salt, fat and sugar from his fingertips._

_He can't say he's completely surprised at the pick, since his own teenage eating habits aren't completely out of his memory, but fries in a shake just seem **wrong** for some reason..._

_"So what's up?" Jeb asks expectantly around a mouthful of food. He's familiar with how their routines work._

_Wyatt's own lips tighten in a stern line. "Don't talk with your mouth full," he chides automatically, willing to ignore the young man's eye-roll. "And..." he starts, also willing to wait until he catches Jeb's eyes... "I just wanna know how school's going." _

_He's doing his level best not to hover since he knows that feeling of needing space, but since Adora's death, there's been a huge rift in their family that he's not sure how to best repair. Pushing's already shown him the dire consequences, but like hell if he's going to let the boy he loves so much, become a man, and let them drift apart in the interim. Jeb is all he's got left, and he isn't going to lose that. He falls back on Adora's idea of 'casual check-ins'._

_"'S okay," the younger Cain answers honestly, if not a bit distantly, his focus no doubt following DG in her section over Wyatt's shoulder. He drags his gaze back to Wyatt after a half second and only one strawberry malt covered fry in his mouth, lifting his hips in the seat to dig around in his back pocket to pull out a piece of paper. "I need you to sign my form so I can take Shop next quarter."_

_"That your elective?" he asked his boy, a tiny bit of pride flowing through. He'd seen the available classes for extra credit and had little doubt his progeny would have selected a gym course, instead. Despite his miscall, Wyatt couldn't help enjoying the fact that his son chooses to work with his hands in a course Wyatt himself had taken and excelled at long ago._

_"Yeah, it was that or gym, and I don't want to run first thing in the morning," Jeb admits._

_Of course, it could be that his son was just lazy..._

_"You're taking Shop class?" DG could be heard asking just over Wyatt's shoulder._

_Wyatt can't help the slight rush of irritation at the thought of her reading over his shoulder, or listening in to a private conversation, but keeps his face neutral._

_"Yeah," Jeb answers with a lift of one shoulder._

_"Mister V's a good guy," she tells them absently pouring fresh tea in Wyatt's glass. "I think you'd like it. He doesn't let you slack off though."_

_"You took Shop?" Jeb asks._

_At the same time Wyatt thinks a bit uncharitably,_ 'You try to slack off, yourself, kid?'

_DG gives the teenager a modest shrug. "Yeah. Veenstra let me work by myself on projects when I finally told him how lazy my partners were...besides being total d-bags to the only girl in the class." She catches herself, casting a quick glance to Wyatt. "Sorry, Mister Cain."_

_She returns her attention to her friend with a half smile. "Like I said, I think you'd like it. The curriculum's pretty fun. Mr. V even got me started on drawing technical diagrams. I think he's still got one of my pieces behind his desk." She excuses herself then, leaving the pair to their meal, and Wyatt privy to another unexpected side to the Dorothy Geare puzzle._

_Jeb leans forward, looking slightly more animated than he had three minutes ago. "So, can you sign my form?"_

* * *

In between the humdrum of the every day, there is a development Wyatt isn't too pleased about.

Despite being a widower with a teenaged son, and dedicated to his job, Wyatt Cain is fresh meat to nearly every single woman in the county.

_He was in the middle of debating whether or not to get the Cheez Wiz for Jeb (Wyatt tried to curb the amount of pure junk that came in the house, but his son had a growing fondness for the stuff and it was on sale) when the rolling wheels of another cart had him glancing out of the corner of his eye and nearly groaning aloud._

_Susan Martin was officially stalking him, he concluded, noticing that much of her shopping was the same as his own. Five damn aisles and the woman didn't seem to be getting the hint._

_Quickly grabbing a can, Wyatt tossed the processed glue his boy preferred and walked as quickly as he could without looking like he was actually running from her._

_DG was smirking as she came back with their drinks._

_"What?" Jeb asked curiously, but DG wasn't looking at him._

_"The lady at table two was wondering if you were single," she told Wyatt._

_Horror spread slowly over his son's face as Wyatt felt his ears and neck grow warm._

_The young woman pulled a napkin out of her pocket. "She told me to give you this," she teased._

_Written on the napkin was a name and phone number._

They flirt, some subtly, others blatantly. The boys at the station find it hilarious and Elmer gleefully recounts each instance some female vies for Wyatt's attention during any call they attend.

Wyatt takes the teasing in good grace, but would really rather be left alone. He's not ready to move on from Adora. He's not sure he ever will be, even as young as he is. Right now, Jeb and his work are all he wants to focus on.

Of course, they get to his son, too...

_Jeb's not home again. The note on the table is, though._

_Gone to DG's_

_**Victoria "Call me Vikki" Jenson**_

_**555-5466**_

_He could have really done without seeing that second name..._

* * *

The bell over the diner door rang and Wyatt automatically glanced at the entrance to view the newcomer. Tall-almost lanky-young twenty-ish-something, casually dressed in flannel plaid and jean with a trucker hat, handsome face and a cocky swagger to match. Wyatt knew his type. The kid was a young trucker, still riding on the thrill of making his own life and (trying to) have a girl in every city. He watched as the boy settled in DG's section.

She was slow to greet his table, but the half grin the boy threw at her was enough to make her return promptly with a smile and quick service.

Wyatt felt his eyes narrow as he noticed the boy's eyes falling to her a... section that wasn't appropriate to be looking at, as she walked back to the kitchen to deliver the order.

Carter caught his eye only a few moments later, after DG had passed by them to check on her section with a happy glow. The other man didn't looked pleased.

"Kid's been around here, before," the cook said, his shoulders moving with his work, only glancing through the expo window.

Wyatt merely raised a brow, but Carter obliged him by an answer. "He's been tryin' t' sweeten her up for a while. Thinks he's gonna s-weet tea, DG!" he hollered as she returned near the drink station.

"Ok, Carter!" she replied, filling the order and bringing him a requested glass.

It was only functionally silent as DG worked the drink station and the window for a long moment before she left, but Carter only tilted his head back to her section once she was gone, not saying another word.

Wyatt got the message though. By silent but mutual agreement between the two men, he lingered far longer than normal at the counter as DG flitted about the diner; watching as she checked the young trucker's table far more than necessary. He didn't bother trying to figure out what they said to each other any time DG stopped at the boy's table-it was obvious they were flirting by body language alone-but he didn't care one bit how the young man's gaze turned almost predatory the moment DG turned her back on him.

It was a slow night and DG only had three tables, so it wasn't much of a surprise when Carter started cutting folks and the other two tables eventually paid their bills and left. Pretty soon it was just DG, Wyatt, Carter and the trucker.

"DG!" Carter called from the window. "Let's get a move on on closing."

She nodded and rang up the trucker, who had been lingering over coffee and pie, the same Wyatt had. She glanced up at him as the register rang. "Are you staying while we close Mr. Cain?"

Wyatt caught Carter's eye over her shoulder. The other man nodded so Wyatt only offered a one shoulder shrug. "Thought about it," he replied casually. "I can escort you home." It wasn't the first time he'd done so, and while DG insisted she was a big girl, she didn't usually put up too much of a fuss when he did. He also knew her folks appreciated it.

DG's gaze widened before darting to the remaining guest. "I don't think I'm going straight home," she told him as nonchalantly as she could. "But thanks for the offer." She scurried back to her last table and after a few moments, the young man sauntered out looking extremely smug.

DG locked the door behind him and hurried to complete her closing duties. As she was wiping down the counter and pouring Wyatt the last of the coffee, Carter spoke up.

"DG, please tell me you aren't going out with that kid tonight." He'd apparently heard her decline Wyatt's escort. "You know he's only after one thing."

That had not been the right thing to say, because her hackles went up and DG bristled. "Mind your own business, Carter."

"DG..." Carter began, noticeably softer.

"_**NO!**_" she cried. "I'm sick of this!"

Wyatt raised a brow at the volume her voice had taken, but DG refused to be cowed.

"How about someone let me live my OWN life for a change!" she challenged both men, sending a glare to Carter before raising her chin defiantly at Wyatt.

* * *

_Sometime Later_

The Geares' truck was off to the side of the road and Cain pulled up behind it, cutting the engine and getting out of the car. He couldn't actually see his son's friend, but it didn't mean she wasn't around. A break in the tall grass gave him a clue and he followed the slight trail until he could hear the sound of a can being set down. She was close.

He nearly stumbled over the girl as the tall grass ended abruptly at a cow pond with DG sitting at its edge, her back to him. "Go away, Gulch," she said without turning around. Her dejected tone and the smell of alcohol clued him in to the issue. She'd been trying to drink away her problem, whatever it was.

He almost felt bad for her, she was clearly too young to know that alcohol never made the issue go away, which usually indicated that someone was too young to drink.

_Sigh_.

"You got a license to be drinkin' that?" he asked.

She whirled around so fast, she nearly dumped herself in the pond and by the light of his flashlight, Wyatt could see the tear tracks on her face. DG had turned her back to him again. "I'm not botherin' anyone, Mister Cain."

"You're still breaking the law, DG," he told her.

She gave an aggrieved sigh. "For once can't I just be left alone to wallow in my own misery?!" she cried.

He sighed and crouched down to join her. "What's wrong?" he coaxed.

"Everything!" DG insisted. "I can' get oudda this stupid town 'cause nobody wants me. I got rejected from all the art schools I applied to, no one else 'round here's hirin', so I'm shtuck in this lame small town in the middle'a' nowhere, where nuthin' happens; takin' courses at the local community college and serving other people slices of pie at the diner part time. My whole life is in a thirty mile radiush! I even got dumped here because my **_real _**parents didn't want me!" she huffed, clearly fighting off another round of crying.

Wyatt prayed she won that battle. Adora had rarely been prone to tears, minus being pregnant with Jeb and the first few years after he was born. Crying females made him understandably uncomfortable.

He wasn't quite sure if it was the tears, the emotional effect or the alcohol slurring her words the most, but he'd negate one option now and work on the rest. He took the can and poured the rest of the contents out. It was disturbingly light. "DG….you're young yet," he began. "Too young to be drinkin' this stuff," he added sternly. "But you've got plenty of time to plot to get out of this place if you wanted. Twenty years is just startin' out. And that 'nobody wants you' is just…." he sighed. DG was watching him warily and he was terrible at having heart-to-hearts. "People want you Deege. I don't know the deal with your birth parents, but far as I can tell, Hank and Em _are _your real parents. And they want you. They care about you. Jeb does. I do."

Deege was silent, staring into the murky depths of the water in front of her, but he was pretty sure she'd heard him.

"There any more of these?" he asked after a beat, holding up the now empty can. He wasn't surprised to see the resignation in her, when she handed him an unopened beer that had been stowed away in the tall grass. "That all of 'em?" he pressed.

The young woman nodded and Wyatt stared hard at her. She did a lot of things she wasn't supposed to, but DG wasn't usually one for lying. She was pretty bad at it. He decided to believe her. "These Hank's?" he asked eyeing the brand.

"He doen't drink that," she muttered.

Wyatt sincerely hoped not. The beer in his hand was little better than piss in a can. Typical college beer. "I don't suppose you're gonna tell me where you got 'em?"

She shook her head.

He guessed as much and stood up. "Come on," he instructed, offering her a hand. "I'm gonna take you home," he informed her, interpreting her distrustful gaze. She still didn't relent and he rolled his eyes. "I'm not tryin' to get you into trouble, Deege. I'm trying to keep you from gettin' inta any more."

She took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, following him back to the cars as she scrubbed her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

They stopped at the truck and Wyatt held his hand out for the keys.

"Visor," DG replied, pointing at the passenger's window.

Wyatt retrieved them and went to place the beer in his car and lock it. DG was already in the truck and buckled by the time he climbed in the driver's side and she looked back at his car. "How're you gonna get back?"

"I'll have your father bring me back."

The ride to the Geares' was silent and reminded Wyatt of the trip with Jeb to this place, with DG leaning against the window, watching the fields they passed.

The light was on at the house when they pulled up and Hank stepped out on the porch. "There you are, baby-girl! Mr. Cain. Sorry! _Officer_."

"Hank," Wyatt greeted with a nod. He watched as the other man's confusion turned into concern for his daughter as DG stepped on to the porch.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Deege, honey, what's wrong?"

DG simply shook her head and headed into the house.

Hank turned worried eyes to him and Wyatt hurried to set him at ease. "She didn't seem like she was in a good state to be drivin' so I brought her home."

"Thank you for that," the older man told him seriously. "Would you like to come in? Em'll have my head if I don't at least offer ya a cup of coffee."

The blond man held up a hand to forestall him. "I've gotta get back to patrol, but I wouldn't mind a lift back to my car."

"Oh! Sure, sure. Lemme get my coat and tell Em and we can get goin'."

They were silent for the first few moments while Hank pulled out of the drive and headed back to Wyatt's cruiser.

When it settled, Wyatt told Hank where he'd found DG.

The other man sighed heavily. "She goes there to sulk," he confided sadly. "I kinda figured that's where she was." At Wyatt's curious expression, he continued. "Deege and Em...well, they had a little disagreement this afternoon. Em was pickin' up and found some travel magazines and thought maybe Deege was plannin' on takin' a little trip half-way 'round the world without telling us. Wanted to go to Australia."

"Seems to be about the right age for it," Wyatt commented casually. "She's twenty."

Hank nodded. "I told Em as much, later, but I don't think she's quite ready to cut the apron strings just yet." He sighed again. "I know it's hard on Deege. She's always wanted to get out and see the world, but as much as we've done right by her, there really hasn't been a budget for any big trips. She's only been out of the state twice since we adopted her." He slid his gaze over to Wyatt. "I know some of that messin' around's due to bein' restless."

Wyatt figured as much. He recalled the tear stained face so devoid of hope and yet so full of want. He wondered if Jeb had seen this side of her...

* * *

**_Please Review._**


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